I'm giving up on you
by colorfulconflict
Summary: This is how Molly Hooper got together with Tom (and how eventually they broke up.)


**I'm giving up on you**

**-0-**

Molly Hooper visited Sherlock's grave. It has been a few months since the fall and she still continues to visit his grave. She doesn't really know why. Maybe she was hoping for him to come back – to catch her staring at his grave while he sneaks from behind and tells her he needs her again. It was foolish – she knows. But then again, she's always foolish when it comes to Sherlock Holmes.

As she walked to the headstone bearing his name, she found another man sitting at the foot of his grave.

"Greg?" She asked when she was close enough.

"Molly," he said as he stood while gently wiping his eyes. "I wasn't crying."

"I can see that," she said with a teasing smile.

He smiled weakly in return. "He's really dead, isn't he? I still can't believe he did it." He said turning to Sherlock's grave. "It must be harder for you. You had to do all the documents."

The gravity of what she'd done, along with all the guilt she felt came crashing back. "It's hard for everyone," she managed to say.

"I still believe in him, though. I don't know if it's the guilt talking, but I can never think of him as a fraud." He looked back at her. "Don't tell Anderson that, though. He still believes he's alive. He thinks Sherlock faked his own death. You know, he's starting up this club where people exchange theories on how Sherlock faked his death."

"There's a club?"

"Apparently, yes. I guess he got tired of telling the theories all to me. I never believe them. I just want Sherlock to be dead, you know? I mean, it would be better if he's not, but what's happened has happened. I don't want to hold on to the hope these theories might give me if I believe them." He stopped to take a breath. "What I'm trying to say is that, I just want to move on." He said stumbling at the last few words.

"I know what you mean." Molly said. She wishes it was that easy.

For a moment they just stood there, silent.

"I better get going, then." Lestrade finally said. He walked a few steps away before calling, "And Molly?"

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if you don't tell anyone about this. The police force is unstable enough. They don't need to know their boss is also unstable."

She smiled. "Of course."

She watched Lestrade walk away before she laid flowers on Sherlock's grave. She recounted all the times she visited him, waiting for him to come back. She knows she will never lose faith in Sherlock, but Lestrade's right. Sometimes she thinks it would be better if she didn't know Sherlock was alive. Maybe she can finally move on, save herself all the trouble of waiting – and hoping.

Maybe she can still try.

For the first time ever, Molly allowed herself to believe that Sherlock was never coming back. She vowed never to wait for him again. She never visited his grave ever since.

**-0-**

She met Tom on a holiday. Her old friend invited her for a night out and told her there's a great guy she wants to introduce her to. Although she knows all her friend's attempts at matchmaking will be futile, she agrees. What could possibly go wrong anyway?

She was walking down the streets to the pub where they agreed to meet when he saw him. Tall. Curly haired. Black coat with a collar up. Sherlock.

She couldn't help herself. Why was he here? Did he know she was going to be here?

Molly began to push through the streetwalkers, not taking her eyes of the man.

"Wait," she called out. She reached out and managed to catch his coat.

The man turned around. Turns out, he wasn't Sherlock at all.

"I'm sorry." She said embarrassed_. _"I thought it was someone else."

He smiled a goofy smile at her, before he disappeared to the crowds again.

**-0-**

"You're late." Her friend Emmy called when she arrived.

She hugged her. "I'm sorry, I just hit a bit of a detour."

"Well, it's a good thing we're friends then, Molly." She got her hand. "Come on, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

They pushed through the crowd until Emmy found and tapped a man on the shoulder.

"Tom," she called.

The man she called turned around, and his and Molly's eyes met.

"Hey Tom, this is my friend Molly Hooper."

She gestured towards Tom. "Molly, this is Tom, he's an old friend. He's moving to London on a few weeks."

"Tom, this is Molly, pathologist at St. Bart's, very smart. I know - I've been a first-hand witness at that." She said glancing at the two, who were so intent at staring at each other. "So, aren't you two going to talk?"

"Umm, sorry." Tom said. "You just look familiar."

Molly smiled, embarrassed. "Oh yes, you probably remembered me from earlier. I'm the woman who bumped into you."

"Oh right."

"All right then," Emmy said, cutting the two off. "Good. I'll leave you two here to talk."

Tom turned to Molly when Emmy was out of the earshot. "Well, That was a coincidence. I guess fate's playing a trick on us, huh?"

"Probably."

"Who was that anyway? The one you mistook me for?"

"He's a friend." A few moments passed before she added, "He's. . ." _He's not coming back._ "He's dead."

"Oh," Tom said, a little bit alarmed. "No wonder you look surprised. You look like you had seen a ghost."

Molly tried hard to smile.

"So, do you want me to buy you a drink, then?" He said, trying to keep her at ease

"That would be lovely."

**-0-**

Tom was nice. He talks a lot, he's not as smart as thinks he is and yes, he kisses good. She looked at him and wondered why someone who looked so much like Sherlock can be so unlike Sherlock.

"So, I'll see you then." He said, pulling her away from her thoughts.

"Sure," she said as she went into the flat she was staying in. She closed the door and thought that maybe he was just what she needed.

**-0-**

A few weeks after she came back from the holiday, he called her and told her he was already in London. They've been together ever since.

She toured him around, walked his dog with him and went to dinner with him. It was all too normal, she thought. She watched him talk and wondered when had her life had become so ordinary. She wondered when it would end – when will she find the secret he's been hiding. After long, she finally realized he hadn't had any.

It was a Sunday when he asked her to marry him, and she accepted. She looked at the ring on her finger and wondered whether or not all of these were pretend.

**-0-**

Sherlock came back a month later, surprised her from behind, as suspected. She asked him to come accompany him as he solves his cases. She accepted. She didn't even remember he was having a date with Tom that day. She called him to call it off. She told herself this is only one time. She told herself she had moved on. She will never let her life stop just for Sherlock Holmes like before.

She went with him, and tried to act like John – because he only asked her to come with him because John was still mad at him, right?

"I'm not asking you to be John, I'm asking you to be yourself."

She wondered why he was being uncharacteristically nice to her. She wondered what happened to him in those two years.

She never asked though. She knew he would never tell her. Sherlock Holmes is and always be a mystery to her, even if she can see the tiny cracks within him.

-0-

"Sherlock, what was today about?"

"Saying thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you did for me."

She told him it was nothing. They used to do this all the time, even though before she only helped her in the lab.

"No, I mean it." He said. "Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most."

Molly didn't know what to say. She began to realize how much he had changed.

"But you can't do this again, can you?"

She was instantly reminded that she was already engaged, and thought that maybe she had changes so much as much as he.

"I had a lovely day. I'd love to, but I just – "

"Well, congratulations by the way." He said glancing at the ring on her finger.

"He's not from work." She said before he can make any deductions about her and Tom and the words came rushing from her, and she didn't know why she even bothered telling Sherlock all of this.

"I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it."

She realized how much he missed him. She realized that this has been one of the happiest days of her life, acknowledge her a lot.

"After all not all men you fall in love with can turn out to be sociopaths." He said before he kissed her on the cheek.

"Maybe that's just my type." She said when he was out of the earshot. There he was again, giving her hope when she thought she had killed every ounce of it she had in her.

**-0-**

She still goes to dates with Tom like they did before Sherlock came back, but it was never the same. All she can think about was Sherlock. Is he doing all right? Is he okay with John and Mary being together? _Stop_. She thought to herself. _You have your own life now. You've moved on. Don't worry about him. Not like before._

"Molly?" Tom asked.

"Oh sorry," she said realizing she's been phasing out of their conversation. Again.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course," she said, before kissing him.

**-0-**

They went to John and Mary's wedding together. Tom kept talking to her - the usual stuff - his dog, his brother, the new movie he was planning to watch with her - and she couldn't help but feel a little bit annoyed. She doesn't really know why. She didn't mind his ramblings before.

"To be honest, I don't really like weddings" Lestrade said, when Tom finally talked to the other guests. "But John and Mary seem to look happy."

She shot a gaze to John, eyes beaming as he shakes the hands of the guests arriving. She saw how his eyes occasionally meets Mary's and Mary's would meet his and for a moment they would smile lovingly to each other, like their stares spoke some language only they can understand.

"They do, don't they?" she asked. "Was it like this at your wedding?" she asked before she could stop herself. "I mean if you don't mind. I'm sorry. Just forget I asked."

"Don't worry. It's fine." Lestrade said. They'd become closer friends in the two years after Sherlock's death, after all. "I think, looking back, I think it wan't like this at all. Back then, I probably thought that my wedding with the wife - ex-wife - was the best day of my life, but looking back, I think we both knew it wouldn't last. We never really connected, I think."

Molly's gaze shifted from Lestrade to Mary and John to Tom. She fiddled with the ring on her finger.

**-0**-

She distanced herself from Tom all through the wedding. She sat next to Lestrade so that she can shift the conversation to someone else whenever Tom tries to talk to her. She wanted to pretend he wasn't there. A part of her thinks, _but he's you're fiance, you should talk, have fun, be in love._ A part of her just doesn't care.

It was just perfect timing that Sherlock would notice Tom when he proposed a theory on Bainbridge's death. She listened and realized how stupid his theory was. It was so unlike what Sherlock would have said. _Stop it, Molly, _she thought. "Sit down," she said, wanting everything to stop. His presence made her feel like watching Sherlock was wrong. That everything about this was wrong.

"He's a bit pissed, isn't he?" he said a few moments after, making his presence known again. She stabbed him with a fork.

**-0-**

She watched John and Mary dance, and the thought that soon enough she and Molly would dance like that, too. Soon, she and Tom would also get married. She instantly felt a pang of guilt.

"Tom," she said, when the fast dances came in. "Is your hand alright?"

Tom managed to smile, though he looked a bit confused.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Do you want to dance?"

"Sure." He said walking with her to the dance floor.

**-0-**

She saw Sherlock walk away alone. She looked a around. She didn't think anybody else noticed.

She didn't follow him. She didn't reassure him that even if things will change, there will still be things that will stay the same. Just like his friendship with John. Just like how he can always count on her.

After all she did to him that day, she chose Tom. She chose to move on.

**-0-**

She rarely saw Sherlock after the wedding, but she rarely heard from Tom too.

He doesn't go much to her flat like he used to. His calls became rarer and rarer and their usual dates was cancelled over and over. She got worried.

She tried to talk to him. When she didn't find him in his flat, she went to the park where he asked her to marry him. Sure enough, he was there.

"I thought you'd be here." She said as she saw him. "You weren't answering my texts."

When Tom didn't answer, Molly sat beside him. "Why –"

"You still love him, do you?"

"What?"

"You still love him. Sherlock, I mean. I've seen the way you look at him, Molly. You know, I may not be as smart as him, but I'm not entirely stupid."

"I.." she suddenly thought of John and Mary's wedding, Lestrade's voice echoed in her head. _I think we both knew it wouldn't last. We never really connected._

"You don't have to answer. I know." He said. "It was him wasn't it? The man you thought I was the day we met?"

"He is. Yes. " She said, . "Tom, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let this get this far, but the day you met me I desperately wanted to move on. And I thought I did, for a moment, but then he came back, and I don't know," The truth that's been sitting in her throat came rushing out, and for the first time she felt like herself when talking to Tom.

"I understand." Molly looked at him and felt a pang of hurt. She knew how it felt, loving someone who doesn't love you that way back. She never knew she would be on the other side of the relationship, though.

All she could do was hold his hand. He loosened his grip and held hers. He took a long look at the ring on her finger.

"I don't think we should push through with the wedding if you're still not ready." She wanted to stop him from hurting but she didn't argue. She knew going further would only hurt both of them.

He gently pulled the ring out of her finger. "It's kind of ironic isn't it? This is the place where I gave you this ring, and this is the place where I also take it back." He smiled weakly. "I guess fate's pulling a trick on us again, huh?"

"Fate is cruel." Molly finally said. She thought that if he met Tom on some other time, she would have been contented with him – probably even loved him more than Sherlock. She would willingly be the ordinary wife of an ordinary man. But she thought, she had seen too much, she had experienced so much with Sherlock that it would be wrong to pretend that that was what she still wanted. That, she thinks, is why fate is the cruelest being of them all.

Tom squeezed her hand tightly before standing up to leave. She watched him go and for the first time, she really saw Tom. Not look-a-like Sherlock Tom. Not meat-dagger Tom. But Tom - awkward, always smiling, sweet Tom, whose biggest mystery he could ever encounter was whether or not his boss would approve his business proposals.

"Wait, Tom," she called, before he could leave.

Tom turned around.

"I do hope you'll be all right. I mean it."

"You too, Molly." He said, giving an understanding smile as he walks away.

**-0-**

She visited Sherlock's grave the week after that. They never bothered to take it out.

She stared at it realized that maybe she didn't need to move on from Sherlock. Not in the way she thinks.

She now knew she can never get Sherlock out of her life. She thought that even if her life doesn't revolve on him, and even if it doesn't end up with him at her side, he had definitely changed it so much, and that's fine.

Someday, she can find someone who would love her, and who she would love back, for all the right reasons.

In time, she would be able to let herself fall, and she would be ready.


End file.
